Far Longer Than Forever
by sydney112612
Summary: With the mystery surrounding her mother's death and her father's recent passing, Taylor and her sister have no choice but to move to Forks to live with her grandmother. There, she meets a boy who sees her as everything. And she begins to feel the same.
1. Chapter 1

**So, here's my first story in a long time. I've been on hiatus, clearing up my life and my head, so now I've come back to start a new story, and give you guys something to read, something that hopefully you'll like. So, without further ado, here's Chapter One to Far Longer Than Forever.**

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"So, where is Meme going to be, Taylor?" asked Gemma, startling me from my daydreams. I had been staring out the window closest to us, at the plane that people were now boarding, the one we had just been on several moments before. I had always hated flying, being so far up in the air and not knowing where exactly we were. That was why I forced my younger sister to sit in the window seat, so she could watch the wispy clouds surrounding us. Now that we had landed in Seattle-Tacoma International, I was ready to get the hell out of there, and never think about going on a plane ever again. Fortunately, our tickets were one-way, so I didn't have to worry about it.

I glanced over at my little sister, her curly blonde hair trapped in a loose pony-tail and her glasses resting on her long nose, and shrugged. "She's probably going to be near baggage claim. That's my guess," I said quietly, and Gemma chewed on her bottom lip. She was no doubt worrying about getting kidnapped or getting lost in this airport, even though it wasn't all that big, especially compared to Logan Airport in Boston. But, that was just how Gemma was; she was constantly being concerned with every little detail, a perfectionist to the core. She was the good girl, the one that Dad had always counted on to do the right thing, to be a complete success. Me, on the other hand? Well, let's say I was not, and never had been, perfect. "Come on," I had impatiently, and grabbed her hand and pulled her forward, ignoring her anxious glances around us.

We walked down the staircase at the left of the gate, where most of the people who had been on our plane had headed, and were about to head to the baggage claim carousel, when an all-too familiar voice stopped us short. "Gemma! Aurora! Oh dear, excuse me, I must get to my granddaughters," came a rather harried voice, and we both turned, me wincing at the sound of my full first name. The voice was soon attached to a woman in her 60s with chin-length gray hair and dark brown eyes, the same eyes that my father and his two sisters had received. Despite my annoyance with the large crowd around us, I couldn't help but allow a small grin to form on my face as Meme threw her thin arms around us, laughing ecstatically. I stood there uncomfortably, patting her back, and Gemma was exchanging glances with me. Neither of us were too keen on tons of affection; that was just how our family had been. "Look at you both," said Meme, her warm eyes drinking us both in. "Gemma, honey, you look so much like your mother," she said, a slight sadness finding its way into her voice. Gemma winced, as my body stiffened; it was still a difficult topic, talking about either of our parents.

It was no secret, that Gemma looked just like our mom; both had curly blonde hair and big blue eyes, not to mention the tall, lanky body. Noticing the discomfort in her stature, I gave her shoulder a small squeeze, just to get her to calm down. It was hard for her to think about Mom, after all the shit that went down. "Maybe we should get our bags?" I asked, hoping to get out of the airport as soon as possible. I took the role that my father normally had; the person that people could always depend on to keep things moving. Gemma and Meme quickly nodded, and I moved ahead, to get away from them both. I loved them both, don't get me wrong, but I just got uncomfortable whenever there was talk about our mother; Gemma didn't really remember her, but I did, and I was able to see her life completely spin out of control. And it wasn't something I liked to recall. So, I stood in front of the carousel, looking for the four bags that Gemma and I had brought with us. I glanced behind me, but, before I could think anymore about how Meme's arm was wrapped tenderly around Gemma's slender shoulders, I spotted one of her bags, and forgot the entire confrontation. Soon, I had grabbed all four bags, and Gemma and I pulled two each out to Meme's car.

The ride to Forks was long, awkward, and quiet, as Gemma had taken to staring out her window, and I, sitting in the front seat, was counting the raindrops on the windshield. Meme continued to try to get us to speak to her, to open up about school-Gemma had straight A's, mine were only B's and C's-and boys-Gemma had a few boyfriends in the past, my love life was nonexistent-but we weren't really up to talking. It was hard for the both of us to realize that this was going to be our new home now, especially after we had just left the people we loved behind. And, to be honest, neither of us wanted to speak to Meme, who we barely even really knew. She had always sent us birthday presents, and cards and the likes, but, she had rarely called, unless it was to speak to our parents about something. A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed it hastily; I couldn't start crying, not know in this car. I hadn't even cried at the funeral, so why should I start mourning now?

"Here we are," said Meme, and I glanced at her thankfully, relieved that I could have a distraction. I took in the small house in front of us, white with light blue shutters and a light blue door. It was quite pretty, actually, and I could tell it was well-kept by Meme. Dad had always spoken of how Meme was a neat-freak, and was determined to keep everything perfect in her house. After seeing the freshly-mown grass and beautiful garden surrounding the front of the house, I could see that he wasn't lying. I was curious of how she had kept the lawn so nice, seeing as how Meme was not the youngest woman in the world, and it was a pretty big lawn and backyard. Maybe she hired someone. "It's not much, but it's home," said Meme softly, and I gave her a slight smile, hoping to give her some encouragement.

"It's lovely," I said, and she gave me an appreciative look in return. Gemma nodded silently as well, and I helped her grab our bags. We approached the front door together, and I glanced at her pretty face, hoping that she could be able to handle the move, the changes that we had no choice in. She caught me, and gave me a tight smile, one that was clearly fake. I sighed, and squeezed her hand, hoping to give her some of my strength. We were stuck together now, and she was just going to have to understand that. But, as I saw the worries in her crystal blue eyes, I couldn't help but wonder, how long was that going to take?

Meme's house proved to be as beautiful inside as it was outside. Pictures of our family, along with my two aunts' families were scattered tactically around the house, as well as a picture of Meme and Pepe at their own wedding; it was black and white, but it was still easy to see the elation on Meme's round face as she was laughing at something Pepe had been whispering in her ear.

"He was so handsome," said Meme from behind me, and I turned on my heel, my cheeks burning at being caught staring at the picture in the bedroom Gemma and I were to be sharing. It had two twin-sized beds, one desk with a computer that looked to be about as old as I was, and one large wardrobe. One bed was dressed with a dark blue quilt, while the other was a light shade of lavender. I had gladly given Gemma the lavender bed, as she was the more girly of the two of us. I had been too busy taking care of bills and helping Dad keep our house as well-kept as possible to worry about the fashionable dresses and skirts that the girls in my grade adored. I was more into the denim everything and t-shirts and tank tops. Easy, simple, and cheap.

"You both look incredible," I said, and I picked up the picture, seeing my father in the man that had held my Meme as if she was the single most important being on this Earth. And, even to that fateful day when he had passed away in his sleep, he had felt that way whenever his eyes had sought hers. Pepe, who had visited us several times during my childhood-especially after everything that happened with Mom-, was always sneaking Gemma and I some secret 20 dollar bills, despite my father's constant protests that we didn't need the extra cash, and that everything was just fine. "You both look so happy."

"Oh, we were," said Meme, running her fingers through her once-red, curly hair. I could still see the youthful joy in her face as she recalled her memories. "We were just about to go off to our reception, and my mother had been driving your pepe insane. So, when we were posing for pictures, he told me that we should have just left her at the church." A bubble of laughter burst in my throat, and a choked giggle managed to escape. That sounded like my sarcastic Pepe.

We stood in silence, just staring at the picture, when I turned to Meme, saying, "Meme, I just want to thank you for taking us-"

"Don't be silly, Aurora Taylor," said Meme, her voice surprisingly sharp. She was watching me with her dark eyes, ones that were so freakishly similar to Dad's that I was forced to look away. "You are my granddaughters, and I would be crazy to not take you both in. That is what family is for, is it not?" I nodded silently, and her expression softened. "You must not worry about being the parent anymore, Aurora. Just focus on being a teenager, for once." Her soft hand cupped my cheek, and she forced my eyes to meet hers. "Listen to me, please." With that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the room, leaving me feeling more foolish than I could have ever expected.

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**So, there is the introduction to the main protagonist and her family. You'll get much more about her background as it goes in, but I hope you got some information from it. I should have the next chapter up pretty soon, since I have a lot of muse, and I'm just riding it through. Hope you enjoyed it!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Taylor? Taylor, get up."

My head forced itself into my pillow, trying to ignore the annoying voice in my ear.

"Come on. We have to go, now."

A shove to my shoulder, surprising me from my sleep. I opened my eyes, staring at the blurry shape standing near me, two parts of it on top of me. After blinking several times, I realized that it was just my sister, holding my shoulders, her pretty face once again scrunched up in concentration. "What's going on?" I asked groggily, rubbing my eyes and hoping to get the sleep out of them.

"Meme has to go check up on one of her friends, so she wants us to take her extra car and head to the beach," said Gemma, and I could clearly see the discomfort in her face now. She was never one for meeting new people, especially when she was already unhappy enough. "I don't even know where she's going, or where the beach is. Some reservation, I think—"

"La Push," I cut her off, sitting up and running my fingers through my dark red hair. I had heard Meme talking about it on the phone when I was starting to doze off. She was a nurse for the hospital in Forks, and she took great care in helping the people in La Push who could not afford to go to the hospital. She was greatly liked on the reservation, I suppose, but that didn't mean I wanted to run off to one of the beaches there. "What's wrong with that?" I asked Gemma, not having the patience to deal with her dislike of our entire situation.

Gemma sighed, and laid down on my bed, resting her head on my knee. I watched her curiously, and tears actually began to spring in her blue eyes. "I just miss home. It's not the same," she said, her words becoming slightly troubled in her throat.

Frowning down at my younger sister, I pushed her blonde hair away from her face. "It's not the same," I said bluntly, making her look up at me in surprise. "It's never going to be the same. But, we're here now, and we can't do anything about it. We just…have to find something positive about it." I smiled at her, hoping to give her some encouragement, but she just wiped her eyes and continued to lay there. Before I could say anything else, Meme appeared in the doorway, her round face holding an upbeat expression.

"Are you both ready to go?" she asked brightly, but, as she saw the despair in Gemma's face, she added with worry, "What's wrong?"

Gemma glanced over at me, but I hastily replied, "It's nothing, she's just a bit homesick. She's ready, but I just want to change. You can go ahead, but, where is this beach?" Meme watched me uncertainly, and then, after explaining the directions, headed out of our room and, several minutes later, went out the front door. I took a deep breath and turned to Gemma, "Do you even want to go to the beach? She won't know, so you don't have to worry about it."

Gemma thought for a second, chewing on her bottom lip, and replied, "Can we just hang out here, and like watch TV or something? You can cook something, we both know that." I watched her face briefly, and rolled my eyes sarcastically. Dad and Gemma had always loved my cooking, especially when I enrolled at some of the culinary programs at my old high school. I just had to figure out what the hell was in Meme's pantry.

"Get out of this room, let me change, and I'll be down in a bit, okay?" I said finally, and Gemma grinned, and quickly left my room. I sighed, the fake smile slipping from my face, and, after rummaging through my suitcase, ran a brush through my thick red hair. It was slightly wavy, and reached the curve of my breasts; some would say it was pretty, but I didn't exactly do much to it. I didn't exactly have much time to use tons of hair product for just a couple of hours. After slipping on a cream-colored tank top and a pair of jeans and I was about to leave, I caught my reflection in the mirror, and frowned, turning quickly. Everyone always said they saw my mother when they saw my eyes—sea foam green, just like hers—but I refused to see it. I didn't want that woman to ever be involved in the same sentence with me.

After nearly tripping down the staircase, I headed into the kitchen, searching the cabinets and fridge for ingredients while listening to the TV in the living room that my sister had turned on. Apparently she had found some old reruns of Will and Grace and was happily watching that. Eventually, after fifteen minutes, I was able to grab some pasta, a can of tomatoes, and some vegetables that Meme must have found at some local farmer's market. After a spaghetti sauce and the pasta was cooked well, I plated up two servings and placed it on the dinner table. "Gemma, come eat!" I called, and I was suddenly reminded of home.

She waltzed in, her face showing curiosity for what I had whipped up, when she noticed the far-away look on my face. "Taylor?"

I jumped, my eyes meeting hers, and I shook my head, not wishing to speak about it. I had to be strong for the both of us, just like old times. "You better eat this damn pasta, it took me forever to find the stuff for it," I said jokingly, and Gemma smiled tentatively at me, still concerned about whatever had been on my face before. We ate with some injections of small talk, and then watched old sitcom reruns, eventually falling asleep on the couch. It was there we spent our first and last night where we were together alone, free of any of the serious drama that would soon plague the both of us.

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I stirred awake, a soft body pressed up against my cheek. I yawned and realized what felt like straw was stuck in my mouth. I coughed loudly, my sister's hair caught in my throat. The girl needed a haircut or a shave sometime soon. I shoved her shoulder irritably, mumbling, "Thanks, Gem." She barely even moved; a whole tornado could suck up this entire house, but she would continue to sleep like a baby. I envied the brat. After rubbing my eyes several times, I got to my feet and headed up to our room, where my suitcase was. Figured I might as well get ready, in case I needed to get away for a while. I had already known that Meme was gone for work, but fortunately she had a carpool, which meant we could use her car all we wanted.

Once I had a quick, hot shower, I dressed myself in purple V-neck sweater and jean shorts, along with an old pair of purple converse from a couple years ago. They were the only sneakers that I had left, and I refused to buy anymore when the ones I owned now were perfectly fine. I headed downstairs, my red hair bouncing in a high pony-tail, and found my sister still asleep. I rolled my eyes, ready to get going, to get the hell out of this house and get moving. Sighing, I wrote up a quick note explaining that I had left, grabbed my cell phone and the keys, and left.

Where I was going? I had absolutely no idea. The entire town was a complete mess to me, and there weren't signs everywhere, like in New Hampshire. Somehow, I had ended up in La Push, according to the old wooden sign that was half hidden behind some ferns, and, after driving for at least ten minutes on an empty open road, I found an old bookstore. I grinned as soon as I put my hand in my pocket—these must have been Gemma's shorts that I'd found, since there was a twenty dollar bill stuck in it. The girl was constantly losing extra money because she refused to remember to actually take out any spare money she had thrown in there.

The bell above the door jingled as I walked in, and the old man with reddish-brown skin nodded at me as I hid myself in the dusty bookshelves. They were ancient, but the books honestly intrigued me, to a point where I had even grabbed one book and read the first couple of pages. There were several about the history of the reservation, which fascinated me enough to where I even found one book that I was willing to buy. The door jingled, but I barely even heard it. However, the temperature in the store seemed to increase a couple of seconds later, and I rolled up my sweater sleeves, hoping to cool off somehow.

Just as I was turning to head to the cashier, I accidentally stumbled into a little girl who couldn't be older than three, with dark, thick, beautiful hair and innocent dark eyes that could wrap anyone around her tiny pinkie finger. "Oh, sorry," I said, my cheeks immediately flaming for some reason. I hated being a red head—I blushed at least tens time more than a regular person. It made talking to people I didn't know very well an interesting experience. I glanced around, but found the little girl was by herself. "Where are your mommy and daddy?" I asked, trying to not talk down to her. I hated when people did that to little kids—it was just condescending.

"Gone!" said the girl rather loudly, making me jump in surprise. Showed how used I was to being around children. "I wid Unca Emb an Qwill now." I couldn't help but smile at her, since her dimples immediately won me over as soon a big smile appeared on her face. The little girl had to be the cutest one I'd ever seen. And the way she lit up about…whoever it was she was talking about.

"Well, how about we go find them? It's not good for little girls to be by themselves," I said kindly, holding out my hand to her. I wasn't sure if she would be willing to take my hand; some kids—rightly so—would refuse to go anywhere with a stranger. But this little girl, while smart, was obviously still naïve, and happily took my hand, ready to go wherever I would take her. I led her away from the bookshelf that I had just been looking at, trying to find whoever it was who was supposed to be caring for her. Then I started hearing the two deep voices only a couple bookshelves away.

"Claire? Where are you, kid? Oh fu-"

"Calm down, Quil, I'm sure she's fine. She's a smart girl—"

"I shouldn't have let her get away. I should have known. I should have been there. I should have—"

Whatever Quil should have done, I don't know, since the girl—apparently Claire—rushed away from me and into the legs of a tall, burly boy about my age—although, as soon as his concerned face turned me and quickly changed into utter happiness that only someone who truly loved and adored the girl would hold, I realized he looked much older than I would have expected. Like a man. And I soon found he was not alone.

The hand that had been holding my book became abruptly sweaty, and it slipped from my palm, clattering onto the floor. And, as Claire giggled, I was forced to look up into the dark, handsome eyes of Quil's friend, whose name I did not know. All I knew was that my heart had suddenly quickened at such a pace that I was sure I was about to have a heart attack, and an abrupt…infatuation erupted for him, one that I would have never expected.

And my life would surely never be the same again.

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**So, I know, this is kind of a cliffhanger, but, I hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless. It took me forever to figure out how Taylor and, well, let's face it, you all can figure out who the "mystery man" is. Just see who the main character is. Anyway, I couldn't decide how they would meet, since I wanted it to be somewhat original and not the typical meeting at the beach, you know? So, I hope you enjoyed it. Please review! An update should be coming sometime this week.**


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